Eduardo Frajman

I was almost killed, just now

I was almost killed,
just now,
by a man
driving like a maniac,
weaving in and out of lanes,
cutting off, cutting through, everything in his path,
forcing us all to watch out for him, be aware of him, be leery of him,
in his blue-gray Hyundai CR-V,
not the car of a rich man
but of one who means to become rich one day
and wants everyone to know it,
and I sped up to catch him,
meaning to face him
and possibly hiss something nasty
about his mother,
and I did,
when some invisible force up ahead in the future
caused all the lanes to clog, and conglomerate, and compact,
forming a barrier unbreachable
even to the boldest
or the most reckless,
and I drove up to his window,
and took a good look,
and saw a young man
with close-cropped hair and a round face,
but I couldn’t see the color
of his eyes
through the tinted glass,
though they must have been red,
because he was crying.